


After Dark

by salacious



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, CEO! Steve, Escort! Nat, F/M, The Red Room is a Website
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 06:50:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18686320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salacious/pseuds/salacious
Summary: He was sure that when Bucky suggested the idea of paying someone to sleep with him, he meant it as a joke.Too bad he thought it was a bloody brilliant idea!See, Bucky thought that the perfect woman for Steve would be an escort - something about money being a good way to keep feelings off the table.The problem was precisely that; the perfect woman for Steve was an escort.





	1. T H E ⋆ R E D ⋆ R O O M

  

> Welcome to the **Red Room**!
> 
> _Due to our high number of clientele, there is currently a_ _one-year _ _wait list._
> 
> **Our Mission:**
> 
> The Red Room delivers a mutually respectable environment for both consorts and clients. We don't chaperon, but we do facilitate the methods and weed out the obstacles that may prevent you from seeking out the perfect arrangement.
> 
> Worried about being catfished? We've got that covered! All of our members must provide official proof of identityas well as FBI approved background checks. We also offer security detail to ensure the safety of both parties involved, and we have partnered up with local hotels to continue making good on our promise.
> 
> Let us help you find the best companion!
> 
> ~ _Madame B_                         
> 
> Below you will find three package options. Choose whatever fits your needs the most!
> 
> Bronze package:
> 
>   * Background checks
> 

> 
>                                         Load more...

* * *

For the sake of me getting away with all the ish I'm going to write, let's pretend that prostitution is legal. Because if it wasn't, this idea (the Red Room) would give me a headache. So, let's just pretend that everything I wrote and have planned out will make sense.

I wasn't going to post this without finishing my other WIPs, but after the movie that Marvel just released  ~~I can't even type out the name~~ I needed to find solace in fics and this is the one I became inspired for. 

I will be posting the first chapter later today! It's 1am and I have classes in the morning, but I stupidly couldn't go to sleep without finishing this  ~~mediocre~~ prologue.

I'm sure the Escort AUs have been done before, but I hope you guys give mine a chance! I'm super excited to start this journey and fix my shattered heart!

xx


	2. H A R D E R ⋆ T H A N ⋆ I T ⋆ L O O K S

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Bucky's brilliant idea, Steve struggles to make his choice. Maybe Sharon was right, maybe he was meant to be alone for the rest of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thanks to Monica for helping me out with this mess! She's the best! <3

Bucky was staring at him again. He could feel his dark eyes scrutinising his every move and smile across the room. He was probably muttering about Steve’s latest admirer. Well, not about the admirer but about Steve’s lack of attraction _toward_ said admirer.

 

And quite frankly, he had heard Bucky’s speech plenty of times to be able to recite it word for word.

 

It’s not like Lorraine wasn’t pretty, she was very beautiful, and Steve was sure that she was worthy of all the praise she got. She was smart and had a kind smile with a mix of confidence and demure.

 

The woman was a sight, but she didn’t spark any interest in him. It was almost like she was cut by the same cookie cutter used for every other woman in the room. 

 

And Steve really wished that Bucky just saw that.

 

He didn’t _like_ these women; he wasn’t _interested_ in them or their first world problems. He wanted something a little more substantial and maybe those women were, maybe they didn’t fit the stereotype they played, but just like it wasn’t fair for him to judge them, it wasn’t fair for him to force himself to like them.

 

“Oh, come _on_!” Bucky huffs out a groan. “It’s Lorraine _Sutter_ , not being attracted to her is like sinning! What’s wrong with her?”

 

Steve raised an eyebrow, turning away from Lorraine’s flirty gaze and took a sip from his whiskey. “Why does there have to be something wrong with a woman for me not to like her?”

 

He glared at him in response, his playful mood souring for a second. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

 

Steve knew, but he liked to bother him. Besides, he was right. Just because he didn’t like a woman didn’t mean that there was something wrong with _her_. She just wasn’t _his_ type.

 

Bucky sighed, trying a different approach. “She’s beautiful and keeps looking over here. She’s clearly interested.”

 

“She is,” he agreed, raising the glass to his lips to hide his smile. He knew that the next words out of his mouth were going to drive him crazy. “But I’m not.”

 

Bucky’s bottom lip twitched. “Is it because she’s a woman? Do I need to find you a man?”

 

Steve laughs boisterously in response and tightens his hold on the glass to make sure the whiskey doesn’t spill. He tugs his suit jacket over his hand to slide his hand in his pant pocket. “Why? You interested?”

 

The look of horror that flashes across his face when he chokes on his drink makes Steve laugh even harder.

 

“I’m going to take that as a no,” he mutters to himself.

 

“A resounding hell _no_ ,” he grunts.

 

“I like women. I just don’t like her or the ones you’ve tried setting me up with.”

 

“Then, what _do_ you like?” He scoffs to himself, shaking his head while he mutters under his breath. “Known you my whole life and I _still_ can’t figure out what the hell gets you going.”

 

He laughs again and stops to drink more whiskey. He didn’t have his preferences already bulleted; he just knew a few vague things. “Looks matter,” he begins thoughtfully, “but they’re not the only thing I care about. I think it’s just hard to date when you spend most of your time in the office.”

 

Bucky glares at him. “You’re the boss, you stay that late because you want to.”

 

Steve chooses to ignore that comment. “I’m busy. My relationship with Sharon didn’t work out because I didn’t spend time with her. The woman who catches my interest would have to be okay with that.”

 

He would have gone more in-depth with his answer, but he noticed that Bucky was no longer paying attention to their conversation. His eyes were glued to the pretty brunette across from them, Wanda Maximoff, Victor Shade’s personal assistant.

 

For the past five charity events they had attended, Bucky always spent his time staring at her longingly. She was the only woman - that Steve knew of - who Bucky wouldn’t outright approach. He wasn’t intimidated by her, but Steve suspected that Bucky fancied her too much to handle rejection.

 

She was nice, the few times they spoke she was very respectful and extremely talented. Being Victor Shade’s personal assistant took a special kind of talent, a special kind of _touch_. She practically had to be able to read minds to keep up with his frivolous requests.

 

“I think I’d like her to have two extra toes,” Steve mused, watching Bucky’s face for the moment he realised what he was actually saying, “maybe shark teeth? I think that would really make me like her. If she has a patch of hair going down her back, that’d be-"

 

Bucky finally tuned back in. His face contorted in disgust and Steve burst out laughing. He turns to look at Wanda and nods her way. “Why don’t you just talk to her?”

 

He waves him away, clearing his throat and turning his body to face away from her. “She’s in…she’s in a league of her own.”

 

“What?” Steve scoffs, “A woman out of James Buchanan Barnes’ league?”

 

His cheeks reddened a little and he ducked his head. “Come on, punk. Drop it.” He took a long sip of his whiskey, waiting for the pink in his cheeks to disappear and then breathes in deeply. “So, basically, you want to pay someone to be with you?”

 

“What?” Steve frowns. What part of “shark teeth” implied he wanted to pay someone for their time? “Where did you even get that?”

 

“Well,” he motions with his glass, “you want someone who understands you’re busy and won’t bother you about you not being the ideal boyfriend.”

 

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want to _hire_ a girlfriend.”

 

“You don’t have to! I mean, you could, I’m totally down for you paying someone for the Girlfriend Experience, but I think what you’re looking for is companionship on your own terms.” That was true. “And sometimes,” he added with a shrug, “the only way you can do that is by paying for it.”

 

“Buck…”

 

He felt bad that he was actually considering it. It wasn’t a terrible idea and it _did_ sound like what he wanted.

 

“No, listen, hear me out, sometimes, feelings blur the lines of a friends-with-benefits relationship. But if you _hire_ someone, you don’t have to be friends. If you’re not friends, blurring that line will be harder. If you don’t want a girlfriend or to get attached, the best way to do it is to hire someone.”

 

Steve stayed silent for a few minutes, just pondering the idea as he looked down at his drink. It wasn’t _terrible_ , albeit his thinking was a little…comical, Bucky was right. Money could make the difference between friends with benefits and friends with benefits turning into something _more_.

 

After a few minutes, he made up his mind.

 

Bucky was still longingly glancing after Wanda, while she laughed at something one of the other women whispered in her ear. For a few short seconds, their eyes met, and Steve swore he saw her blush.

 

“Buck,” he cleared his throat, trying to sound nonchalant, “don’t we provide security for an escort site?”

 

He frowns and answers absentmindedly. “Uh, yeah. The Room or something? Heard they have some of the most beautiful girls there…”

 

 _The Red Room_.

 

That’s what it was.

 

Even though Steve would never admit it, Bucky was a freaking genius.

 

~*~

 

After Steve finished out his Army contract, he wasn’t sure what to do with his life. All he had known were orders and shielding those who couldn’t fight their battles. For a few weeks, he and Bucky just did whatever they wanted to do - try to sleep in and eat greasy cheeseburgers from the local diner.

 

Then the routine got boring and punching at each at the gym other wasn’t enough to make up for all the adrenaline they were used to using.

 

One moment they were pitching the idea of starting a security company and the next they were hiring more people than they could count. It started out as private security and over the years branched out to more than that.

 

For the Red Room, he provided IT security as well as personal guards for the clients that requested them. They had a good working relationship and that’s what really made him feel a little better about pulling some strings to get on the list.

 

The Red Room was probably one - if not _the_ \- best website for arrangements between consenting adults. It probably had to do with all the security measures people had to go through in order to join.

 

There was a one year wait-list period for those that wanted to join because Madame B - the founder - wanted to make sure that everything was done correctly. The security was something that she emphasized when they met - that’s why, according to her, she requested _his_ company’s services.

 

Granted, the website wasn’t perfect, but it was praised by the Sex Workers’ Party for its respect towards clients as well as the workers.

 

Madame B greeted him brightly when he first walked into her office. She had been surprised when he reached out for this meeting, but thankfully she didn’t make him feel too awkward.

 

“How are you doing today, Mr Rogers?”

 

He smiles at her as he sits and undoes his suit buttons. “I’m doing well, what about you?”

 

“Fine, fine!” She pulls out a few papers and stacks them on her desk. “So,” she clears her throat, pushing the small pincushion cactus to the corner of her desk, “the last thing we discussed through email was this appointment. To better help you with your profile, I’m going to ask you a few questions and narrow down your choices based on compatibility and preference.”

 

Steve nods along, rubbing his thumb against his beard as he tries to figure out what he actually wants. He knows he wants someone that he’s attracted to, but he doesn’t really consider himself to have a type. The last two women he dated were blonde, but had different personalities - and quite frankly, he hopes that whomever he ends up choosing, doesn’t remind him of his past girlfriends.

 

“Other than what we discussed over the phone, what were you looking for?”

 

He shrugs an arm, lines forming on his forehead as he tries to sort out his thoughts. He probably should have come a bit more prepared, but he genuinely didn’t think this through. It was best he didn’t, anyway because if he did, he’d probably stop himself from doing it.

 

“Well, most of our clients have a specific physical description of what they’d like. We can start with hair colour?” She offers, pulling out a folder and flipping through the pages. “One of my best girls is a blonde. Based on what you sent me, I think she’d be a great option.”

 

Steve raises an eyebrow in question because all he sent her was a basic description - someone he could be intimate with once a month, that could be discreet and personable. “Do you have a picture?”

 

She nodded, pulling out a picture of a beautiful woman. “She’s Russian,” she whispers it like it’s reason enough for him to want her, “Yelena is her name and all of her clients are always satisfied.”

 

The woman in the picture was stunning. She wore a black lingerie set that really emphasized her…assets. Her lips were plump and coloured a light red that complimented her skin tone very nicely and her intense gaze promised nights of passion.

 

Yet, as he studied her picture, he couldn’t help but feel no…interest.

 

Bucky would punch him for saying that.

 

She really was beautiful, but she didn’t have whatever it was that he was looking. He’d just…know when he saw it - or at least that’s what he hoped would happen. If Madame B couldn’t help him, he really was fucked.

 

“Okay,” Madame B grins knowingly, “I can see that Yelena isn’t really what you were looking for. Is she completely discarded, or should we have her in the possible list?”

 

“She can be a possibility.”

 

This goes on for a few minutes and he was really starting to lose hope. At least he had chosen a few candidates because he wasn’t _blind_. The girls really were nearly perfect, tall and had voluptuous figures, smiles that could entice, but he didn’t really feel like he’d be able to -

 

Come on, Steve! It’s not like you’re looking for your soulmate! You’re literally looking for someone to spend an hour with - _once a month_. It shouldn’t be so damn hard!

 

At this rate, the only action he’d get was going to come from his damn hand.

 

She gives him a pensive look before closing the book and flattening her hands on the cover. “Steve.” She pauses. “In order for this to be successful, you have to be selfish.”

 

He frowned and she grins at his expression. How did he have to be selfish for this to work?

 

“Most of my new clients always feel guilty about choosing their type out of fear that they will be judged. I’ve been doing this for a few years, and I can try to narrow down options based on the questions you answered, but I can’t help if you don’t give me specific choices. I’m not here to judge, if you want a specific body type, age, hair colour, etc. I need you to tell me.”

 

He smiled at that. She really had been doing this for years. It wasn’t that he was worried she’d judge him, it’s just that he didn’t know the specifics of what he wanted. “They’re all very beautiful.”

 

“But?”

 

“There isn’t one jumping at me just yet.”

 

“Steve,” she gave him a dubious look, “out of the fifty candidates I narrowed down for you, you’ve only liked five.”

 

He felt his cheeks reddening a little bit at that. So, in other words, he was stuck with his hands.

 

“Here,” she turned the catalogue around again and flipped through some pages, “I want you to tell me your honest opinion on these pictures.” As if sensing that he was going to hesitate with his answers, she looks up at him pointedly. “Think of this as a business transaction. You won’t sugar-coat your opinion with a possible vendor, right? That’s what I want.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“This is Rogue. What do you think of her?”

 

Rogue was pretty, she had a demure smile that was almost inviting. But the softness in her features made him think she had _just_ turned 18 and that’s not something he really wanted.

 

“She’s very pretty but looks a little young.”

 

She nodded, keeping his comment in mind. “So, what age range were you thinking?”

 

“Anything over 23?”

 

“Okay.” She flipped through a few more pages and stopped. “What about Elektra?”

 

Elektra was older and seemed much more comfortable with her…figure. Out of all the women he had seen, she was the one who seemed to have had the most work done - and while he didn’t think there was anything wrong with that, it just wasn’t his thing.

 

“Maybe someone a little more…natural? I just-”

 

“Uh-uh!” She interrupted, “I don’t need you to justify your answer. This is what _you_ like, and you don’t need to give anyone a reason for why you like something or why you don’t.”

 

He laughed and nodded. “Okay.”

 

“So,” she grabbed the pile of _maybes_ and placed them in front of her before she began to type away on her computer. “I think that now I have a better understanding of what you’ll like. I have a few candidates in mind. I’m going to look up their profiles for you now.”

 

While he didn’t really like Elektra, he had to admit that her hair caught his attention. Maybe it was because it wasn’t the platinum blonde that Madame B was continuously showing him.

 

And Madame B noticed.

 

She stopped typing, turning to him with a curious expression on her face. “Do you _like_ blondes? I assumed that’s what you wanted based on your dating history, but I could be wrong. Actually,” she shook her head, “never mind. All the girls in the _maybe_ -pile except Yelena aren’t blonde.”

 

Before he can make a comment, her phone begins to ring. She looks down at the caller ID and sighs. “Can you give me a moment?”

 

“Sure, I don’t mind.”

 

When she steps out of the office, Steve takes a short second to look around the office and tries not to get lost in the possible _what-ifs_ running through his head. If he stopped to actually think about what he was doing, he’d probably run out of the office. He was sure that if his mom were still alive, she’d beat him for even considering this…arrangement.

 

Steve didn’t want to intrude in Madame B’s conversation – or at least that was the excuse he was giving himself – so, he scooted closer to her desk and reached for one of the binders she had on display.

 

At first, he didn’t expect to find anything. Quite frankly, he had reached a point that made him feel helpless. If he couldn’t pay someone to sleep with, then Sharon was right; he truly _would_ end up alone for the rest of his life.

 

He sighs at the thought of her words and keeps flipping through the laminated pictures without really paying attention. At first, he just did it for the hell of it, to go through the motions and keep his mind occupied while Madame B spoke on the phone, but the more he flipped through the pages, the more he found himself paying attention.

Good thing he did because while he was not sure what it was about the picture that caught his eye, it ultimately _did_ captivate him. Maybe it was the different pose and glamour of the picture or the obvious sensuous undertones that her gaze held without being tasteless.

 

The woman looked like she belonged in the front cover of a ballet magazine. She wore a white short dress with her curls pinned in an elaborate up-do. Her lips were painted a dark red, a colour that rivalled her hair and accentuated the arch of her full lips.

 

She was smiling over her shoulder at the camera, and her green eyes were twinkling as if she was sharing a secret with the photographer. Her hands were extended at her sides with her wrists tilted to complete the graceful pose she held, and he wondered if standing on her toes like that hurt her as much as it hurt _him_ to think about it.

 

When Madame B walked back into the office, she found him quite captivated by the picture. “It seems you’ve found your type.”

 

He laughed, shrugging as he relaxed back against the couch. “She’s beautiful.”

 

She nods, reaching for the book and turns the page to look at the profile tag. Once she finds it, she turns back to the computer and types a few things in. She turns the monitor around so that he can look at the screen with her and he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees while he looked.

 

“She has blonde hair on her profile picture,” she muses to herself, “but in most of her pictures, she has red hair."

Steve was so taken by her that he really didn’t care. Her hair could’ve been neon green and he still would’ve found her to be beautiful.

 

“Mm,” Madame B hummed, chewing on her bottom lip as she read over her profile. She had two computers on her desk, one that was turned to him and the other one that had her personal information. “Now, I’m not sure she fits the criteria you’re looking for.”

 

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

 

“Well, her profile is set to “unknown” regarding intimate arrangements, meaning, she hasn’t specified whether she would be willing to discuss a sexual arrangement.” She pursed her lips, staring at the screen pensively. “Mm, I wonder if…” she trailed off talking to herself.

Steve really tried his best not to let his disappointment show. Of course, he’d like the woman that wasn’t interested in what he was looking for.

 

“Okay.” She didn’t sound as hopeful as he wanted. “All of her previous engagements have been what we call a social arrangement. Basically, she hasn’t had sex with any of her clients.” When she noticed that his shoulders sort of dropped in disappointment, she flashed him a reassuring grin. “ _However_ , that doesn’t mean that she would be opposed to one. I will reach out to her on your behalf if you’d like?”

 

Steve shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I will message her and see if she’d be willing to discuss.” His phone began to vibrate in his pocket, and he sighed while reaching for it.

 

Darcy Lewis was calling, which meant that someone had managed to fuck something up.

 

“I have to go.”

 

“That’s fine!” Madame B stood up and took the manila envelope he had brought for her. “I will get these files in the system and open your account.”

 

In order to become a member of the Red Room, clients and courtesans had to provide a medical report. Depending on the nature of their relationships, they would have to update their STI record monthly.

 

While the site didn’t take responsibility for whatever happened between the consenting parties, they did encourage safe sexual engagements and allowing the partners involved to see their health records was something everyone agreed to.

 

Steve thought the hardest part of this whole ordeal was choosing someone he deemed…interesting. He was wrong.

 

The hardest part was typing up a message to _ _rednova_ that would not label him a complete creep.

 

What was the proper protocol for asking someone to sleep with you once a month without sounding like a complete dick?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this! Let me know what you think/if anything doesn't make sense! Remember, we're pretending some of the Red Room stuff makes sense lmao xx
> 
> Next chap we get Nat's point of view :D


End file.
